64 days until the end of the world
by V.9.5
Summary: 64 days. 64 moments. Things that were never said. The end of a story.
1. 64

The first time they speak to each other again, very few words are exchanged. He is leaving for E-class, and barely spares a glance for him.

"How long?" comes the near silent whisper.

For a moment, he pauses. Hand on the doorknob, he says, "64 days." And he leaves.

He doesn't know that Gakushuu looks back at him, eyes full of regret.


	2. 63

The next time they see each other, they are not alone.

There are many people with them. Nagisa has his class, who are glaring at Gakushuu and his friends - or rather, minions. They stare back with equal hatred, and Karma is saying things, things that will rile him up, things that will hurt him. But Nagisa cannot bring himself to say anything, do anything, not even stare. He keeps his focus on Karma who is leading the hate. He ignores Gakushuu's gaze.

"Yeah, run away!" calls Karma. The 5 masterminds push past E-class, who let them go. Gakushuu's hand brushes against his. When they are gone, he lags behind, looking at the note.

 _Meet me by the river._

* * *

The river is calm, as usual. Gakushuu finds it clears his mind, watching the water go by, washing the sides of it and his entire mind.

"You wanted to see me, shi?"

"You have to address me so formally, Nagisa? I am not a stranger to you."

"... Are you sure about that, Gakushuu?" Nagisa asks quietly. Gakushuu wishes he wasn't so doubtful of his own words. Nagisa looks at him, not sitting, waiting for an answer.

"63 days," he finally says. "63 days." He's already forgotten what he called Nagisa here for. A part of him is glad Nagisa even showed up. They haven't been this close for a while.

"I'm working on it," Nagisa says. "We're finding a way."

"To save us?" he asks. He's not asking about the world. Nagisa gazes at him, the same gaze Gakushuu gave Nagisa inside school.

"I... I don't know."


	3. 62

There is a change.

Not the change everyone has felt, as midterms came around. Not the change in power. E-class is ruling the leader boards, and a rebellion - a revolution - is on the way. You can see it, in the way people move, the way they stare at Gakushuu, who, for once, is number 2.

He's not top dog anymore.

But the change he feels is not one within the school. The one he sees is in Nagisa. Nagisa Shiota, who used to be his confidante. His friend. The river where they used to meet, to, for a moment, throw off the chains their families had placed on them. His chains are the ones of success, being cruel and strong in his actions. He isn't allowed to love or be kind. He is meant to be strong. Nagisa was meant to be a girl, a sweet, smart girl.

Was.

Now he is free. Somehow, impossibly, unthinkably, unimaginably, he has cast off the chains, he has made them shatter into a million tiny pieces and he is free. Nagisa's face is brighter, lovelier, and a smile now graces his features instead of the forced one only Gakushuu could see. He laughs and talks, and his mother is there too, but somehow they are closer and the rift between them has disappeared.

In the main school he was miserable. But since transferring to E-class... He has become free. Free from the constraints of his mother. Free from society. Free from the strict regulations of the school, up in the mountains. Gakushuu looks up to his headmaster's office. He is not free. He is bound to his father. The chains are tighter than before. He is bound to his reputation. The people inside the school only pull those chains tighter and tighter and tighter until he is suffocating, dying and -

He wonders what it's like to be free.


	4. 61

Gakushuu, as usual, packs his bag. As usual, he calls goodbye to his friends - classmates - and walks out of the door. As usual, Gakushuu passes the school gate into the car park. As usual, he goes straight to his headmaster's car. As usual, he leaves his bag on the ground and waits for his headmaster to exit so they can go to the house.

But not as usual, he picks his bag up and walks away, saying nothing to the chauffeur, who just looks confused. He doesn't look back, willing his feet to continue on. On through the car park, on through the main gates, on through the streets where he gets weird stares. And he prays he doesn't run into E-class. He prays that for once the bullying, the whispering will stop, for at least one day, so he can die knowing that for once he was accepted for who he was and not because someone feared him.

Before he knows it, he is at the park.

 _"Hey, Gakushuu?"_

 _"Yeah, Nagisa?"_

 _"Promise me... If the world ends, we'll be together."_

 _"Nagisa, why must you make stupid promises? The world isn't going to end."_

 _"What if... our world ends?"_

 _Gakushuu paused, looking at his friend, who had suddenly become very solemn. Too solemn for a 10 year old. "Our world?" Nagisa sighed._

 _"Gakushuu, not all friendships last forever, and with our kind of families I think that maybe it won't, so promise me if it does end you will meet me here, so we can say goodbye to each other?"_

He never did meet Nagisa. But it wasn't friendship that ended.

He walks into the park, sitting underneath a tree. Nagisa and him had many special spots to play together and hide together. He wonders if their friendship, their - relationship - was worth it, worth the pain and regret he feels everyday. He watches some children play. One day those children will attend his father's school and become obsessed with grades. But maybe they'll retain the memory of just playing.

And he decides, it was.

* * *

"Where have you been?" the voice of his headmaster hits him the moment he walks through the door. Gakushuu looks at him - and nearly does a double take. The headmaster looks frazzled, hair on end, eyes wild, cheeks red like he'd been scratching them. His phone has been discarded to one side, tie loose, shoes chucked off to one side. "I've been looking for you!"

"I was at the park."

"Why?!"

 _Because the world is going to end in 61 days. Because I wanted to see happiness. Because I wanted my faith in humanity restored. Because I have so many regrets that you can't possibly understand, because I wish I had been brave enough to tell Nagisa how I felt, because I don't want to die with this heartache, because I hate you, I hate you I hate you I hate you Ihateyou-_

"I don't know." The headmaster runs forward. Fearing a slap, Gakushuu flinches. The headmaster's arms go around him, pulling him in tight. Gakushuu can feel the headmaster's body shaking. His breath is short.

He is crying.

Gakushuu stands, waiting for him to let go. When he does, he turns around and heads up to his bedroom, ignoring his father's - headmaster's pleas. It's too late. No point in forming a bond with his headmaster. After all, if the headmaster didn't have something to teach...

Then why on earth should they speak at all?


	5. 60

60 days. It's like a mantra, a heartbeat inside Nagisa. A constant reminder. 60, 60, 60. Two months. 8 weeks. 1460 hours. 87600 minutes.

It's in his dreams when he falls asleep. A clock, that ticks every minute away. When he wakes up he thinks of it. Every second spent sleeping, walking, eating is a second not saving Koro-Sensei. A second wasted. So he has to keep thinking.

Thinking of this, or thinking of him.

 _"Gakky!"_

 _"My name is Gakushuu, Nagisa!" he yelled, turning bright red, but the other young boy had already hit him with a hug. He automatically wrapped his arms around Nagisa's waist._

 _"You can call me Naggi! Gakky and Naggi - a fierce double act!" announced Nagisa. He laughed._

"NO!" he screams, before he can even think. His mother comes running into his room, immediately hugging him, like he did to Gakushuu all those years ago.

"Nagisa! Are you OK? Why did you scream?" she asks him, looking in his eyes and checking for intruders.

"Sorry mum," he says. "I just.. I felt... Never mind." He still isn't comfortable with opening up to his mother, half-afraid she'll go into one of her fits of rage again. It wounds her, he knows, that he won't talk to her, but she keeps it in, keeps her distance, waiting for the day her son will be able to talk to her.

They haven't got a lot of time to reconcile.


	6. 59

Gakushuu sees Nagisa by accident.

He is walking - he seems to do that a lot now - and pauses, for a moment, to look into the cafe. A small, insignificant cafe. One tourists might post pictures about, laugh in, forget about when they go home. One the local kids never go to, because they prefer takeout or homemade food.

For him, it meant the world. For them, it meant the world.

He still remembers cold nights and warm jackets; their sniffly noses and tissues; the hazy, fizzy feeling of sneaking out without their families. The cafe was the only one that was open after midnight. So they went there, bought a drink or two with the little money they had, and sat inside until their eyelids grew heavy, along with their hearts.

And he sees Nagisa, on the other side of the cafe window, on another street parallel to his. Their eyes meet, and suddenly, he's inside, ordering a drink and waiting.

"Just a choccy mocha please," a voice says beside him. He freezes, taking a deep breath in. Slowly he looks towards the person next to him.

It's not Nagisa.

His eyes dart to the other entrance, the other window, but Nagisa is gone. He takes his drink, pays and leaves the way he came.


	7. 58

Gakushuu can't believe it, the way they are all so calm. It's near impossible to think that there are still people out there who are happy, desire food and drink and are content with their lives. They seem a million miles away to him, even as he walks among them.

He almost smiles at their ignorance. Ignorance is bliss after all. He commends whoever came up with that saying, weaving in an out of the crowds at school, making his way up the stairs and sliding into his headmaster's office. The headmaster must've seen the twitch of his mouth, because he smiles.

"Gakushuu," he says, and Gakushuu recoils. The only person who's ever called him by his first name was his mother, and Nagisa. No one else. His father always called him Asano. He's pressed against the door, ready to run. The headmaster rises. "Gakushuu, please I -"

Operating on autopilot, he flings the door open and runs. He's not sure where he's run to until he hears the voices of A-class, all gathering around, all worried. "Asano! Did your father hit you again?!" Ren asks, alarmed. Gakushuu looks at all of them, only just feeling the sting on his face.

 _I must have fallen somewhere,_ he thinks fuzzily. _Can't believe I didn't notice._ Why had he run straight to A-class though, and showed them his weakness?

"I don't care if he's the headmaster, he's got no right to treat Asano like that!" someone says firmly, and is met with 'yeah' and 'totally'.

"It's barbaric - you don't hit kids anymore! I wouldn't wish that on anyone... Not even the lower graded students," someone else says, and is met again with agreement.

Someone is helping him up. "Asano?"

"I - I just had a small episode with my fa-the headmaster," he says, changing his words. Emotional distance. "Nothing wrong. I banged my head along the door as I left."

"Right..." says Araki (another mastermind) doubtfully. He takes Gakushuu's other arm and guides him to a chair.

Gakushuu is silent. "Hey, Asano? You know you can confide in us right? We're here for you. Us top-graders have to stick together after all."

"Yeah. Especially against the Headmaster. I don't like the way he is right now..."

"Do you want to spend tonight at mine, Gakushuu?" asks Ren. One girl nods eagerly.

"We should make a rota - Asano shouldn't stay with the Head. If he's this violent at school..." she shudders, pen and paper out. "So it's Ren today, Araki tomorrow, Koyama Wednesday..." The students gather around her volunteering themselves to look after Gakushuu.

Gakushuu merely stares, in shock. His classmates... his _friends_... He had _friends._ Real life friends who would stick up for him. And he wouldn't have to see the headmaster. He smiles, getting up, and hugging Ren, then Araki, then everyone else one by one. "Thank you so much.."

"Hey, we got to make the world a better place," someone says. "That's what we're in A-class for!"

Everything's changed for him. _But,_ he realises, _nothing has._ He was so obsessed with grades and work, he never even noticed these faithful, wonderful, loyal people - his friends.

There was definitely a revolution coming.

His revolutionary war... against his father.


	8. 57

Ren isn't stupid. He prides himself on that. He's one of the 5 masterminds, friends with the top students in school. He has lots of volunteer work and references under his belt. In addition he's charming and lovely to all the ladies.

But Ren isn't thinking of grades. He thinks of Gakushuu Asano, son of the headmaster. AKA his best friend. When Gakushuu grins at him and starts going up the stairs to his bedroom, Ren waits at the bottom of the stairs and observes him.

Ren isn't stupid. He suspects - well, knows. No one is ever that damaged when they enter high school. He blames it on the headmaster - that bastard. Just thinking of that man, that creature that has near-destroyed the good person Gakushuu really is underneath his obsession with grades and appearances and E-class, makes his blood boil.

But he also blames it on what happened to Gakushuu.

He's seen what happens when Gakushuu runs into lower-grade students. The tests, the bets. Then E-class came along, and Gakushuu was surprisingly soft to them. Didn't give them an impossible challenge like he'd do with the D-class, or C-class students. In fact, he made it easy for them. Physical challenges are their forte - and he gave them one.

He's also seen the way Gakushuu looks at that boy. The E-class kid. Blue hair tied up. Lithe figure with soft lines. Ren doesn't know his name, but he knows how Gakushuu feels about him. That's why he always went easy on them. Went to them for help when his father poisoned A-class with obsession.

 _Is the headmaster homophobic? Is that why they can't be together?_ He wonders, watching Gakushuu steal his food. He certainly wouldn't have minded if his friend dated a lower-grade student, if it meant he was happy. "Hey! That's my popcorn!"

"Not anymore. I'm top dog now," cackles Gakushuu, eating the popcorn. Gakushuu smirks his evil smirk and settles himself on the sofa with a calculus book spread across his lap. Ren flicks it off. "Ren!"

"Let's do something else!" Ren announces. "In celebration of you coming over!"

"It's not the first time I've ever come over," shoots back Gakushuu.

"No, but it'll be the last time if you don't give me my popcorn!"

Gakushuu gives up the popcorn, chucking it at Ren. Ren doesn't miss the "It might be the last time ever," Gakushuu mutters. He pretends not to have heard it. "HAHA! MINE!"

"For a mastermind, you're an idiot."

"For an idiot, you're a mastermind." They have always bantered like this. Ren likes to think that Gakushuu thinks of him as his best friend, just like he does to Gakushuu. Gakushuu does tell him a lot of things he doesn't tell the other masterminds, or anyone.

But he doesn't talk about his past with blue-haired boy. Ren doesn't ask. "Let's paint. I've got a couple of easels in the closet - the paintbrushes are in the draws, can you get them?"

* * *

Gakushuu has drawn the blue haired boy.

Somehow, he has captured a soft light, the movement of an ever-flowing river, and the stillness of the mountain that E-class is on in a painting. The blue haired boy is sitting by the river, smiling, holding the hand of someone outside the painting. He gazes out into the sky.

"Wow! Who is it?" Ren asks. There is no denying it - his best friend is in love. Or was.

"Nobody - just someone fictional now," Gakushuu replies.

 _Now?_ wonders Ren. _Why is he fictional now? Did you have a bad relationship? What happened? Was it the headmaster?_ He wants to know, but doesn't push it, instead handing it back. "You should hang it up, like a memory!"

"A... memory?" Murmurs Gakushuu. "Yeah. That's nice."

They don't speak of the painting - or the past - for the rest of the night.


	9. 56

Gakushuu observes the children at the park again. They shout, play, and run around as children do. They are oblivious to the working of the world, and maintain their fresh innocence. "Mister-san, hey mister-san!" one yells to him. "Can you play with us?"

Suddenly, they are all surrounding him, pulling on his blazer, asking him to play. "OK, I'm coming," Gakushuu says, not caring anymore. He doesn't care about image, health, looks, anything, anymore. The world is coming to an end, but his world ended long ago. He just didn't realise it until recently.

He pushes the playground roundabout, the children whooping, watching as it spins around and around. The invite him to jump on, and he does, pushing the thing with his foot every so often to keep them going at fast enough pace to excite the children, but not fast enough to make them dizzy. He pushes children on swings, on net swings, helps them climb the play-fort, slide down the slide and on the monkey bars. He plays hide-and-seek, Duck-duck-goose and many more games.

He teaches them too. Small rhymes and songs that their young minds will remember, and they belt them out to the rest of the park. Their mothers and fathers laugh and smile, watching him play with the children. They know him of course - because of his father. They expected him to be like his father, but here he is, playing with children.

"Mister-san, why do you look sad?" asks one boy.

"Sad?" he repeats.

"You look away mister-san, and you look sad. You're not really happy." Gakushuu is amazed by his perception. Vaguely, he remembers that children do see more than adults - can know more than adults. "Why?" But then there's that childlike curiosity.

"Something happened to me," he says slowly. "A long time ago. I betrayed someone I loved." He's not sure why he's confiding in this child. "I've never forgiven myself for it. I still want them... But I'm a coward. I'm afraid of his rejection."

"Well, you shouldn't think like that," the boy says firmly. "When you love someone, you should risk it all for them. Otherwise you'll be left wondering why you didn't and what could've happened." He leans forward and whispers. "Even if you like boys. It's OK. I like boys too."

Gakushuu stares at him. "Are you some kind of guardian angel?" he whispers. "Have you come to guide me?"

"I know you'll make the right decision," he says. "I have to go, my mummy's calling me." He runs off, and Gakushuu, too shocked, doesn't see where he goes. He stands up, looking around for the boy or his parents.

* * *

He goes back to the park the next day. The same children run up to him, asking him to play, the same parents laugh, the same thoughts are thought.

He doesn't see the boy that day, and wonders if the line between reality and fantasy is beginning to blur.


	10. 55

The headmaster observes his son in the school grounds. He has received worried calls from teachers, telling him that Gakushuu has missed all his lessons today so far. Asano reassures them his son is all right, makes up an excuse for absence. But the boy is sitting in the middle of the grounds, not doing anything, not making an effort to do anything.

Once upon a time, Asano might've dragged his son to his office, yelled at him, slapped him and sent him to his lessons. Forced him to do catch-up and maybe learn a chapter from a book by heart. He wouldn't even think of his son's mental health, which seems to be slowly degrading. His boy - his child - is falling apart and he didn't even notice.

Just like his mother.

Mrs Asano wasn't the smartest woman, or even the prettiest. She was average. That was what Asano loved about her. She could laugh and chatter and dance, and always bothered him while he worked, which in turn made him feel loved, wanted.

But when his student committed suicide, he paid less attention to his wife, and more to his work. She still bothered him, kissing his head and asking to talk, wrapping her slender arms around Asano. He became so obsessed. He neglected her - neglected their home. His wife stopped bothering him. They had Gakushuu and she was happy again for a while, but soon, with the death of her mother, and her brother, and no support from her previously loving husband, she began to fall.

Asano, as well, had been cruel to her. Tried to infect her with his obsession, and when she resisted, for herself and their young son, he had grown cold towards her. Unable to take anymore, she had left, without Gakushuu, and a few years later, he read of her suicide in a newspaper.

Another person he had failed to protect.

Asano sighed, gazing down at his son, who was idly lying back, using his bag as a pillow. It was a stunt that E-class boy would pull - Karma. With his sharp eyesight, he could see that Gakushuu's face was blank. It unnerved his father, that he couldn't tell what he was thinking. His own son. His child.

And his reaction the other day... Gakushuu had been avoiding him like the plague. The entire of A-class seemed to be in on the 'avoid headmaster Asano at all costs' plan because every time he entered a room they would claim he's gone to the toilet or getting something for the class or he was absent because he was planning something for them all. What, they never said. And when he waited, the class would protest, telling him Gakushuu wouldn't be back for a while, and that it was better not to waste his time.

They were also letting Gakushuu stay at their houses overnight. He had found a rough rota-type thing of where his son was going to sleep next. He was glad that his child had so many dedicated wonderful friends, but he did just want to talk.

He wondered if Gakushuu knew about E-class. He seemed to spend a lot of time around them, so surely they would have let something slip. Is that why he was so down? Why he was acting strangely?

 _Or has he always been this way and I was too blind to see it?_


	11. 54

Gakushuu's sight is blurry with tears. He doesn't exactly know why he is crying. What is there left to cry about? He's been so empty for so long, pushed away all emotion for so so long, it's overflowing, out of his body in the form of tears, sweat and blood. He doesn't bother using tissues, afraid the headmaster might find them, and just cries into school blazer.

He has bunked off lessons again. He just didn't feel like acting normal, putting on a facade, like everything was OK, when it definitely wasn't, when everyone he has ever loved will die -

A fresh wave of tears assaults his new emotions hard. He supposes, through the fog in his mind, it's like a newborn child - just come fresh into the world, and cries. For what reason, no one knows - just the same as his newborn emotions, crying for no reason.

Ren...

Ren will die. It only just occurs to him that he will die, but he doesn't care. Ren will die, A-Class will die... Nagisa will die. These people who help him, care for him and love him will all die, and if they survive in a new, broken world, their identities will change beyond recognition. He sobs some more, burying his face into the jacket.

He pushes himself further into the closet he is hiding in. It's locked, so no one will look for him here. He tries to control his breathing as he thinks of everyone he loves. He doesn't want to alarm anyone.

He just wants to be _happy._

Is that so much to ask? So much to want? Just a fleeting moment, a second, a glimpse of real, true happiness? Not the happiness he had, tinged with the fear of his father finding out and the loss of reputation. Just pure happiness. The kind he sees in Ren. The kind he sees in that E-class teacher, Korosensei. The kind he sees everywhere, everyday, but not with him.

It seemed every time he reached out to touch happiness, it would recoil from his fingers, like he was contaminated.

 _The headmaster is contaminated,_ thinks Gakushuu. _I am contaminated. I am a disease._

The worst thing of all though, is that no one is looking for him.


	12. 53

The headmaster still can't see what his son is thinking.

The boy avoids him - and everyone else, it seems, from his latest truanting session - like the plague. Some nights he'll wait up for him, when he's late home (if he's not with friends that is), and just before his child can set up his defences again, he sees so much emotion in his son.

But not emotion for him.

That is what he tells himself as he goes through his son's things, desparate to find something, anything, that tells him he can save the sweet young boy his son used to be. Something clatters to the floor. It's a painting.

He picks it and his breath hitches as he looks down at a young man. Not Gakushuu, some other boy. The headmaster has a strange feeling, like he's seen this man before, like he knows him, but he can't quite place where. Once again, he curses himself for his absence in his son's life. It has a tiny signature at the bottom.

 _Gakushuu and Ren!_ written in Ren's handwriting. He vaguely recalls a face that he once hypnotised before. Could he reach out to the boy? Maybe if... If Gakushuu was willing to open up to Ren through painting, they had talked about his life. Did boys their age do that? He didn't know.

He resolves to call Ren first thing tomorrow morning to his office.

* * *

"Ren?" he asks questioningly to the boy standing in front of him. The boy flicks what little brown hair he has away from his face - a small sign of his disrespectful attitude towards the headmaster.

"Yes headmaster. That's me. What did you call me here for today sir? I haven't seen Gaku - Asano if you're looking for him."

A slight tinge of worry edges Ren's voice, and the headmaster breathes a sigh of relief. He called the right boy. "I'm not looking for my son, Ren," he says. "But I have noticed... discrepancies in his behaviour. As headmaster it is my duty to attend to the health of every student in this school - both mental and physical."

He isn't prepared for the hateful glare Ren sends him, and he wonders if he said something wrong.

"I wouldn't know, headmaster," Ren says shortly, "What you'd be talking about. Asano seems fine to me. If you wish for a mental wellness society to be set up, I'm sure the A-class students could arrange something -"

"No!" the head says, cutting Ren off. "I merely... I merely want to know what's wrong with my son. And," he draws up a photo of the painting on his phone and shows it to Ren, "Who this is."

Ren's gaze pierces him, and he feels more uncomfortable than he has in years. The boy searches his face, his eyes, for deception. And the headmaster knows even if he did have bad intentions, he wouldn't be able to conceal anything from this boy.

"I don't know," he says, almost honestly. "I asked Gakushuu to draw something, and he drew that boy. We talked the rest of the night... He seemed OK on the surface, but whenever he thought I wasn't looking I could see..."

"See what?" the headmaster asks, desparately clinging to the information.

"Nothing," Ren says to the silent room. "Nothing."

The bell rings and Ren looks up to the sky and sighs. The headmaster does the opposite. "You're not telling me everything, are you, Ren?"

"No, I'm not, Headmaster," Ren says. He turns away and walks out without dismissal, a clear sign the conversation is over.

And in that moment, the Head understands how his son feels when he had turned away from the child.


	13. 52

A conical flask hurtles at the wall, hitting it with such incredible force a crack is revealed. The perpetrator storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving everyone - including Korosensei - in utter shock.

The perpetrator walks down the corridor, struggling to control his breathing. Some assassin he was... Couldn't even control his emotions. Now everyone knew.

Now everyone knew.

Nagisa can't take it anymore. The tension - the emotion - the _silence_ , it's killing him. It's like his own personal hell. He can't save Korosensei. He can't fix his relationship with his own mother. He can't contribute well enough to class. He can't do anything, it seemed. But he knew that. He knew that from the day he was left alone.

 _All was silent in a park somewhere in Japan. One young boy, with blue hair and eyes, waited underneath a tree and sobbed openly, tears scarring his face, emotions scarring his heart. He had been there since three that afternoon. Now it was almost midnight. No one comforted him. No one ever would again._

That moment defined him. That moment made him who he was. That moment was everything to him, forever indented on his personality, on all his future relations, all his future prospects. Whatever he would do, it would all come back to that moment.

Korosensei's appearance is just a small part of his story after all. Gakushuu is the rest of it.


	14. 51

_Time,_ Gakushuu reflects, _is a human construct._

He gazes up at the natural state of the universe - the night sky, with its thousand twinkling stars, burning uselessly millions of miles away. It is cloudy and unclear, but since when has anything been clear and fresh in his mind? He finds himself connecting greatly to this natural state.

Time is a human construct. There is no real day or night. The earth came into being by chance, so did humans, and animals, and everything in the universe. The earth has always kept turning, the universe is still expanding, God's existence is still unconfirmed.

What did he treasure? He treasured grades, beating his father, beating E-class, beating his friends.

Gakushuu realizes that although time is a human construct, it's one of the most important constructs ever made. It gave him everything that was worth something in his previous life. And now that it is running out...

He isn't quite sure what to do without it.


	15. 50

People avoid him as he walks down the corridor, his body piercing with their stares and whispers. Teachers shake their heads.

"Such a good boy," they'll say. "What went wrong?" they'll say. They'll talk everyday. That's just how it goes.

Gakushuu feels his chains pulling at him. He can barely move his feet, hearing the heavy clunk of expectation, fear, worry and death dragging behind him. He sighs wearily, rubbing his worn eyes.

"Asano!" yells someone, and Gakushuu looks up, an automatic response. He realizes too late it's a warning to him, called out by a faithful A-class student who has bolted in the other direction.

The headmaster approaches him, taking long strides towards him. Everyone scatters out of his way, aware of the head's cruelty towards Gakushuu. Gakushuu himself struggles to hide, conceal, don't show anything otherwise -

"Asano," the head says. Gakushuu doesn't respond. "I've noticed you've been having trouble with your studies lately -"

Of course. That's what cares about. Gakushuu blocks his head's voice out, readjusting his bag a little to get more comfortable. Though why he wants to be comfortable he'll never know.

"And I was wondering if, perhaps, you'd like to talk?"

Gakushuu blinks up at the head stupidly. "I'm fine, sir," he says politely. "I'm going to be late for class."

He knows brushing off the head like that will have consequences later on, but he actually couldn't care anymore. Even though he's in direct sight of the head, he moves out of the school building and out of sight.

 _Out of sight, out of mind, of course._


	16. 49

Ren watches Gakushuu intently, like he is a documentary he needs to study - perhaps even more intently than that. He watches the way his friend's hair shines in the light, watches the bag bounce happily away on his friend's hip, watches the crisp uniform barely move in the passing breeze.

He also watches the vacant expression on Gakushuu's face. He doesn't look stupid, oh no - his face holds none of the vacancy of an idiot. His eyes are still sharp - still attentive - but something seems so far away about him.

 _Where are you going, Gakushuu?_

His friend - his bestie - pauses at the school gate where E-Class files through. No one makes an acknowledgement of Gakushuu's existence. Until, that is, the blue haired boy pauses for the slightest second, his hand brushing over Gakushuu's, and even though Ren is an entire block away from them, he can feel the electricity sparking between them.

 _It's enough,_ he thinks, _to power the world for a lifetime._

Words seem to fail them. They look at each other, with only pain and longing and things never said. Then the moment is broken, and Gakushuu is left behind, the blue haired boy engulfed into the path of life that the school has given him. Suddenly, Gakushuu walks away, calm and composed as ever, never breaking an inch, never looking back.

"Is that him?"

A voice breathes behind him, and he turns, instantly putting his guard up. It's the headmaster, whose eyes linger on his retreating son's back. The head looks out of breath, almost straggled - but that's not possible.

No. No. Ren will not humanize this... this monster. "You did this," he whispers, enjoying with a savage pleasure the shock on the head's face. "Never forget that. You did this. You destroyed him."

Meanwhile, Gakushuu has disappeared, and Ren can't help but feel he's disappearing in more than the physical aspect.


	17. 48

Is he floating?

He can't tell.

He feels heavy as well. He can't be floating if he feels so heavy, can he? Maybe his chains are holding him down?

What's going on? He doesn't know, but he feels calm, cool, collected, more so than he has done in days. Ren speaks to him, his feet firmly on the ground. Can Ren see him floating, he wonders?

"... And I was wondering if you wanted to come over again?"

"Yes, I would like that," Gakushuu replies, hand sliding carefully over the paper, watching the words form from the hand. He likes this blue. A light blue, not the dark blues and blacks favoured by the rest of the class. It reminded him of Nagisa, of the happier past, if it could be called that. Perhaps he should say calmer past. It was calmer then. Wasn't it?

"OK! OK." Ren sounds worried.

"What's wrong?" he asks, looking at his friend. He feels wobbly, but he's sure it's just him. Ren has his feet firmly on the ground. "You are my best friend, you know. We can talk."

"Yes. Yeah. We can," Ren says, almost expectantly. But Gakushuu doesn't say anything and continues to watch the words pour from his fingers (wait - they're his?) onto the book.

He likes this blue.


	18. 47

Gakushuu strides confidently across the school yard. He's back in lessons, back in top form, dominating the leaderboards, leading A-Class...

... Spending time with his friends, enjoying the way the sunlight falls onto the ground, the firm ground...

... And still feeling alone.

But it doesn't matter. He has reconstructed his shields from the tatters they have become, unsteadily wobbling in front of his face and mind. His class is overjoyed, his friends (the masterminds) ecstatic. All except Ren that is.

Ren's gaze always pierces through the hole in his defences so perfectly, he is almost sure his friend is psychic. But then he dismisses it, after all such things don't exist.

But neither do flying yellow octupi whose faces change colour and teach maths on a mountain... He has to bite back a laugh. What's wrong with him?

Everything, apparently.


	19. 46

Somewhere, a class resides on a hill.

It is high up, away from the hustle and bustle of life. It lies in the middle of the greenery, ivy climbing over it, almost disguising it. It's Japanese lettering swings quietly back and forth with the wind. The windows glitter as sunlight falls onto it.

The gardens are full to bursting with daffodils and tulips. It's a joyous array of colour, with the odd sneaky daisy or poppy adding a fresh zest to the neat, human arrangements. Grass grows long, happily, swaying too, a vibrant green that, when it comes into contact with the blindingly blue sky, makes you cover your eyes with your hand and squint, it's so bright. Rocks are randomly dotted here and there, used as stepping stones or sitting stones.

The forests around it chitter with wildlife. There's the rustle of a squirrel, the squeak of a mouse, the gentle whoosh of a bird as it settles onto a tree. And the larger creatures, deer bounding into clearings, rabbits jumping near rivers, fish of all sizes splooshing up into the air for a moment before sinking back into their watery abode. This area is slightly duller, as the trees act as a shield for sunlight.

Somewhere deep within this forest, long-forgotten, lies a fountain pen. It has been pecked at, and trampled and swept away by small floods so many times there is no identification left on it. It has been obliterated from the wider history of the world. Those who remember the pen don't remember it now.

But there it lies, still dripping a little ink, still wrought with life, on one fine, limited day.


	20. 45

_I am alive._ _I live, I breathe, I put myself into the sunlight and -_

 _I am obliterated._

He folds his hand carefully and draws it back into the shade of his room.

 _45 days._


End file.
